


Too Late

by Underthenorthernlights



Category: Asoiaf - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2442557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underthenorthernlights/pseuds/Underthenorthernlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the SansaxSandor Livejournal SanSan Russian Roulette. </p>
<p>Prompt: Sansa watches Sandor dress. </p>
<p>Challenge to write something different than usual style, between 500-700 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Late

As Sansa sat on the thick feather bed, she watched Sandor standing in front of her, his back to her. Her eyes captured the image of his broad smooth back. She let her eyes travel down to his trim waist to the dark hair that covered his bottom and thick thighs. She blushed as she remembered how the front of his thighs cradled the back of hers as he took her from behind, one of his large hands pinning her arms over her head, the other between her legs. He pulled his black breeches up his legs and slowly tied the laces.

_Come closer girl, if you dare_ , he had said with dark grin. She had tried to turn away but when he grabbed her arm, urgently and then gently turned her towards him once again, she had allowed him to push her against the cold wall and though she knew it was not right; she was a married lady after all, she had done her duty and was the ever dutiful wife to her lord husband; but a part of her wanted to throw caution to the wolves and she had shivered when Sandor bent low and pressed himself against her and ghosted his lips over her neck and rasped, _This night I will get my song little bird_. She knew the song he spoke of, she had longed to sing, though her lord husband was ever so dutiful in the marriage bed, no _true_ song escaped her lips.

Sandor sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on over his breeches. Sansa noticed how his lank hair hung over his face as he bent over to lace them up. She thought how his hand had wrapped itself in her hair as she took him with her mouth and how he controlled her by gently pulling her hair as she suckled him. When she had lifted her eyes to his, the look in them shook her to the core and it was like he felt it too and he had lifted her off her knees and laid her on her back and took her slow, his eyes challenged her and she sang and wept for the first time as he tumbled with her, over the abyss of pleasure.

Sandor straightened up and as he turned towards her, Sansa could not meet his eyes. She felt small and lost again, and she could not say a word. She felt the tears start when she thought how he had held her tightly afterwards and spoke words to her that she never thought a man such as him could say.

As she closed her eyes, the tears fell and his hand cupped her cheek. She felt his rough thumb wipe the tears away and then he gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm. She opened her eyes as his ruined mouth softly kissed her lips. He pulled away and stood up.

Sansa pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders and watched as he pulled his tunic over his head and then put an oiled oxhide jerkin over it. He tightened the buckles on his sword belt and turned to her, a conflicted look on his face. She knew. He knew. It had to be this way. It was too late for them.

_Family, Duty, Honour._


End file.
